


Tangled Up In Blue

by ravebot



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, because i'm the worst, there was no good reason for me to do this, this was an old writing exercise that i turned into a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravebot/pseuds/ravebot
Summary: Gaara stared out across the lake and waited.And waited.And waited some more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the tags, this was an old writing exercise that I decided to turn into a very short fic. I was experimenting with styles at the time. I apologize in advance for how dull it is. I don't know what I was thinking.

The water was cool and gentle bodied, its waves lapping ever so gently against the distant shore.

A translucent blue, it bore its deepest depths for the entire world to see.

To think that a body like this existed, Gaara marveled. 

To think it could reveal its secrets so freely.

So unlike his own.

Gaara dipped his hand into it.

Tiny ripples formed around his fingers.

Gently he swished the water back and forth, reveling in the refreshment it provided for his hot skin.

Then he baited his hook and cast his fishing line into the lake.

 

The force of the motion rocked the boat just a little.

Gaara sat back to steady the craft.

He felt the sun on his face.

Powerful rays burned down on his well-tanned skin with the high intensity of mid-summer.

Gaara stared out across the lake and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

 

The sun sank lower and lower in the sky.

Finally he felt a tug on the line.

He did nothing at first.

Once a fish was hooked it was good to let it gain some distance.

The fish in the area were quite large.

Gaara didn't want to risk the small boat capsizing as a result of a sudden, powerful movement from the fish.

He wanted to wear it out first.

When the fish was a few yards back, he put just enough pressure on the line to keep it from getting any farther out.

Now it was time to wait again.

Gaara sat while the fish thrashed around in the water.

All the while he held a firm grip on the pole.

It took a long time.

But finally the fish appeared to wear itself out.

 

Gaara began the final step in the process.

Slowly but surely he began to reel the fish in.

Every few seconds he would stop, and wait.

Wait to see if the fish had any excess energy just waiting to escape.

Wait to see if he had any fight left in him.

 

The sun was beginning to disappear behind the reeds that outlined the secluded lake.

Finally, the fish was close enough to the boat to be pulled up without incident.

 

Gaara slowly began to drag the fish out of the water.

This part always took the most stamina.

Surprisingly, the fish there could top one hundred pounds.

Humans rarely made their way out here, and natural predators were few, so the scaled creatures felt no need to hide from anything.

There was nothing to shrink away from.

 

It was no easy task to get his catch out of the water.

And unfortunately for Gaara it never did make it all the way out.

The fish, in a last ditch effort, again began to thrash unexpectedly.

Its muscles flexed.

Its scales reflected a rainbow of colors in the dying light of the evening.

Gaara used all the strength he had.

But it was no use.

The four foot long fish snapped the line clean in two with one final flick of its tailfin.

It plunged back into the water with a splash that made the boat rock violently.

Gaara watched as the deep blue of the water engulfed the fish once more, staking its claim on the creature.

He watched as the fish swam away.

 

The water welcomed the fish, and the fish belonged to the water.

The fish was determined that nothing was going to change that.

Gaara didn't blame it.

He knew there was nothing that could be done now.

The fish was tangled up in blue.

 

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ***

 

Gaara wiped the sweat from his brow, then rowed the boat to shore.

He rolled up his pants and stepped out of the boat.

The ankle deep water felt good on his hot and calloused feet.

Tiny rocks crunched beneath his toes as he dragged the little boat onto the bank.

He picked up his fishing pole and rested it on his shoulder.

In his other hand he held on to his tackle box.

Once more he glanced at the lake.

Then he walked up the shore to the small wood cabin he called home.

 

He wiped his feet on the worn down welcome mat lying pathetically in front of his door before entering.

No one’s feet but his own had ever used it.

He kneeled down on the cool wooden floor and began to disassemble his beloved fishing pole.

Gingerly he rubbed each piece with a cloth so that it shone like new.

He grabbed his special box from the table beside him and placed each piece gently inside.

Then his stomach reminded him that he had eaten nothing since noon.

 

He examined the state of his tiny kitchen.

Luckily he still had some leftover fish tucked neatly in the freezer.

He fried it up on his stove’s sole burner.

He swiftly plated it up and sat at his table to eat, facing the empty chair across from him.

The smartly curved edges gave him a teasing smile.

All of his furniture was home-made.

Each piece had been crafted with utmost care.

It was another silly hobby of his. 

But Gaara had no idea why he ever made that damn chair.

It spent its days mocking him.

A reminder of his pathetic solitude. 

He washed down his modest meal with a cold beer.

Alcohol was the one thing Gaara was willing to splurge on.

It made the long, lonely silences more bearable.

 

Now it was nearly dark.

Gaara returned to the main room to sit in his favorite chair, a large and comfortable armchair in a corner of the room.

All the upholstery had been done by Gaara, too.

It’s not as if he had anything (or anyone) else to fuss over.

The look and feel of the fabric was just to his liking.

He was very picky about what his skin was willing to touch.

He switched on the small reading lamp by the side of the grand chair.

After making a quick visit to his bookshelf, he sat down in the chair and sighed, releasing the stresses of the day.

 

The book he had chosen was an old favorite of his.

Its title was etched in gold letters and its pages were protected by a cover in a rich, dark blue.

For a while he just stared at it, his face unsure if a smile or frown was more appropriate.

This book had been a gift.

 

He opened it up and began to read.

Quickly he became engrossed in its contents.

He could sense the hours passing by.

He knew he should put the book down.

But he couldn’t do it.

He was lost among its every page.

Each word formed a step in a spiraling stairwell of escapism. 

Time after time he tried to close it for the night and save it for another day.

But he could not pull away from it.

The book’s every sentence was skillfully written and the feel of the navy cover felt good in his hands.

Slowly but surely, Gaara was tangled up in blue.

 

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ***

 

The moon hung high in the sky by the time Gaara finally put down the book.

He had finished it.

Of course he had. 

He massaged his temples.

He had lost.

He always lost.

He was just no match for that book.

It had beaten him, just like the fish had.

Just like-

But he wouldn’t think of that.

 

He stood slowly and stretched his arms out wide.

It was high time he got some sleep.

In his cramped but lonely room, he stripped down to his undergarments.

Then he crawled under his thick blue comforter.

The days were hot but the nights were cold, even in the summer.

He had no air conditioning and suffered during the summer heat.

He did, however, have a wood burning stove for warmth, but he needed to save his firewood for wintertime, when both days and nights were bitter.

So for now he had to make do with wrapping the comforter around him.

He shut his eyes and waited for sleep to come.

 

It was a short wait.

It was late and his day had been long.

He was exhausted and slept deeply.

But he dreamed of many things.

Living so isolated had caused him to develop an excellent imagination.

He dreamed nearly every night.

His dreams were filled with foreign lands and foreign people.

But he also dreamed of familiar faces.

 

One in particular stood out among the rest.

It was because of this person that Gaara knew he dreamed in color.

Every time he dreamed of him he remembered the blue of the man’s eyes.

It was the last thing he saw before he opened his own eyes each morning.

 

Gaara’s body ran on a natural clock.

He had stopped using an alarm clock years ago.

He always awoke right at the crack of dawn, whenever that might be.

The grey light of early morning welcomed him.

But his comforter had conformed to the shape of his muscled but slender frame overnight.

Gaara had little room to move.

He figured he must have been tossing and turning in his sleep.

The blanket encased him, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

 

He wanted to get up.

He knew he needed to.

It was essential for him to have a successful day fishing.

His stock was running dangerously low, even though it was the best season for the largest and most abundant fish.

And he needed something to sell the next time he made the long trip into town.

But the warm embrace of the blanket urged him to stay put.

Its soft caress on his skin as he moved even a little made him want to forget about every obligation.

It called out to him.

It whispered to him, ever so softly.

“Stay with me, please,” it plead.

He was always hearing voices.

He knew he was just hallucinating again, but he didn’t care.

And for once Gaara did what he was never able to do.

He stayed.

 

He closed his eyes again and lay there until the sun was well over the horizon.

There in his bed under a layer of warmth and comfort and sweat he remained,

tangled up in blue.

 

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ***

 

Finally, after many hours, Gaara dragged himself out from beneath the covers.

The comforter showed its sorrow without Gaara’s presence.

It lay there, limp and lonely.

“Feel sorry for me,” it said.

And Gaara did, just a little.

“Have pity, come back to me,” it cooed.

But that was one thing Gaara could not do.

Sympathetic to its fate, he smoothed it out across the bed and tucked its corner neatly under the mattress.

“Perk up,” he told it. “I will be back again tonight.”

 

He cooked a quick breakfast for himself.

Or was it lunch?

It was fish again, of course.

He was down to his last cuts.

So he took his tackle box and the special box that contained his fishing pole and went outside to face the late afternoon haze.

 

He sat down in the grass a little ways from the cabin, feeling the unforgiving rays on his head.

His hair had become lighter from so much exposure. 

He opened the fishing pole’s special box and delicately put it together.

He stood up with purpose, quite determined to make the remainder of the day a success. 

He should never have been so careless.

By the sun’s position in the sky, Gaara could tell it was nearly five o’clock already.

He had already wasted far too much time.

 

But looking up towards the sky was another mistake.

After squinting at the sun, he allowed his eyes to wander towards the open sky.

It was a beautiful, brilliant blue.

There were no clouds at all.

There was nothing but the endless cerulean stretching as far as he could see. 

It made him wistful, and then it made him lonely. 

 

He lay back in the soft grass, feeling defeated. 

His newly assembled fishing pole lay on one side of him.

The tackle box sat squarely on the other.

Neither of them got any use that day.

Gaara put his hands behind his head and tried to relax, tried to ignore the clenching of his gut.

He stared up at the sky until he felt lost there; until he couldn’t feel himself anymore. 

There were many times in which tried to look away, but his eyes did not shut, and his pain only grew.

Ever so often he would be reminded that the fishing pole and tackle box still lay untouched at his sides.

Many times his hands twitched toward the items, a momentary reach towards reality.

But something deep in his subconscious prevented him from ever picking them up.

 

He was stuck lying in the grass that day, he knew that much for sure.

His body would never obey what his head was telling it to do.

He wasn’t even sure if the two things were connected at all anymore. 

He sighed in frustration. 

Whether he liked it or not, he was once again tangled up in blue.

 

*** * * * * * * * * * * * * * ***

 

At some point Gaara must have dozed off.

His eyes opened suddenly but he hadn’t remembered closing them.

Immediately he searched for the blue in the sky.

But he was highly disappointed.

The vast sky had been overrun with large clouds.

They were gathering quickly and they enveloped it entirely in a somber gray.

They decreased the intensity of the sun’s already fading light.

Gaara knew it was too late to bother going out on the lake.

Especially not with those formidable clouds rolling in.

It would be more than a little risky to be out on the lake in his tiny rowboat when a storm was sure to erupt at any moment.

And it was already around eight o’clock.

 

Gaara stood and looked around.

He didn’t know what to do with himself, now that any kind of fishing was out of the picture.

He hadn’t missed a day of fishing since the first day the lake had fully thawed, about two months after his arrival.

With a sigh he decided that there was nothing left to do but return to the cabin.

“Just in time,” he mused.

It started to rain, and then to pour, as he opened the door and fumbled for the light switch.

It had grown so dark in a matter of minutes, and there would likely be no moonlight tonight.

He gasped when the light illuminated another figure standing before him.

His pole and tackle box fell to the ground, causing a racket.

Standing before him was the familiar face of his dreams.

 

He had his nose, his mouth, his hair, his smile.

He had all the same little imperfections.

The tiny wrinkles and creases in his face were located at just the right spots.

But most importantly, he had the same eyes.

The same bright blue eyes that Gaara could never forget as long as he lived, even out in the middle of nowhere.

Try as he might.

 

The man was grinning.

“Miss me?”

What kind of a stupid question was that?

 

He made a gesture, coaxing Gaara towards him.

Gaara stepped towards him in complete awe.

Not once did he avert his gaze.

Finally he was within touching distance.

“Naruto,” he whispered.

He felt guilty uttering the name.

 

Naruto pulled him in close, his body warm and inviting. 

Gaara couldn’t help but let his head rest on his chest.

He could feel him breathing.

He could hear the slow and steady rhythm of his heart quicken its pace at the contact.

Cheek on cotton.

Soft skin against hard muscle. 

 

“Why are you here,” Gaara pleaded.

“Because you tried to leave me, and I’m not letting you go.”

“But I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up. I don’t care,” he murmured. 

 

Naruto ran his hands gently through Gaara’s hair and let his fingers find the nape of his neck and linger there.

Gaara felt a shiver spread through his entire being.

He pulled away and caught Naruto’s gaze again.

He was still so beautiful. 

Every feeling he had ever felt came rushing back in an instant.

He could barely stand.

 

“I probably smell terrible.”

Naruto scoffed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“How did you find me?”

“I asked around.”

“I really should get in the shower.”   


“Gaara, kiss me. Please,” he begged.

 

His hand gripped Gaara’s and he pulled him close again.

He wrapped one arm around Gaara’s waist.

Naruto’s fingers found skin underneath Gaara’s worn t-shirt.

His painfully blue eyes were pleading.

Gaara couldn’t resist any longer.

 

When their lips parted Gaara sighed, without meaning to.

“You’re tan,” Naruto remarked. 

Gaara shrugged.

“I’m staying,” Naruto warned.

Gaara walked right past him.

“I hope you like fish,” he said.

 

He couldn’t see it but he knew Naruto was grinning.

Gaara shook his head in disbelief and almost laughed, almost.

Even after all these months, he was still tangled up in blue.


End file.
